Raining Kisses (The Opeth Pack Saga Book 2)

by Sascha Illyvich

Letting out a contented sigh, Nicholaus stroked Krystyna’s sweat slicked forehead and brushed more hair back. “Satisfied?”

  “Enough for now, drágám.” Krystyna rolled onto her back, looked up at the ceiling.

  Nicholaus guessed that was all he was going to get from her right now. What more could she want? They’d bound him to them, so he could never truly escape. “You know, what you both did to me was wrong.”

  Katarina tugged his arm.

  He looked at her. “What?”

  “No, it wasn’t wrong. It was what should have happened a long time ago. But we were both too young to know better.”

  “Do you even know what a blood rite in our pack means?” He arched an eyebrow at Katarina.

  “I do.” Krystyna’s grip on his arm tightened. “It means you’ll never be able to be without us. You’ll never have a life with another woman. You belong to us as we do to you.”

  "I never cared about any others. I just wanted…” Fuck, what the hell did he want now? Sex usually complicated things but one time slaked the lust. The second time never happened, not with any of the bimbos of his past. For good reason, too. He couldn’t afford for humans or other wolves to get involved.

  Not like these two.

  “We know, Nicholaus. But please understand why we did what we did. Trust us.” Katarina’s fingers stroked his naked thigh. It was suddenly cold in the room.

  He didn’t want to let them down again. Couldn’t bear the thought of fucking up again. Slowly, he let out a breath. “You could have asked.”

  Krystyna smirked, glaring at him with all the annoyance of a teenager. “And have had you refuse us? Tell me you would not have refused our request, Nicholaus. Tell Katarina you would have let her bite and drink from you as you would have me. Swear it.”

  He couldn’t answer them, did not want to think about what rejecting either of them would mean.

  “I didn’t think you would answer me. You’re a bastard, Nicholaus.” She huffed and looked away.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “You still love me?”

  Krystyna sighed heavily. “Yes.”

  “And so do I.” Katarina snuggled closer to him.

  Nicholaus sat up and looked out the window. Something felt off. The sun hovered just above the horizon and clouds moved slowly in the sky but the scent on the wind smelled of approaching wolf.

  Foreign wolves, judging by the stench of spice.

  Who was out there? Did they need to move now? Could they afford to do so? This town had secrets, the wolves’ only inn being the greatest one of them but how loyal would the innkeeper be to them?

  He didn't recognize them as anything more than paying customers, Opeth Pack meant nothing. At least if it had meaning to him, he ignored it.

  Instead, Nicholaus closed his eyes and let his senses tell him what he needed to know. The enemy, if that’s who was nearby, was several miles out and they weren’t coming at a fast clip. Just fast enough that the wind carried warning to those paying attention. His group could catch some rest. Huffing, Nicholaus lay back and folded his arms behind his head. “Get some sleep. We have a long journey tomorrow.”

  Katarina yawned and pulled Nicholaus toward her. Krystyna snuggled closer and yanked the covers over the three of them.

  Closing his eyes, he waited for the rhythmic sound of the two of them breathing in unison.

  Ten minutes later, they were in sync, breathing slow and easy, asleep.

  Settling himself into the comfort of his lovers and the bed, Nicholaus took a deep, slow breath. In truth, he realized he knew very little about the blood rite and how it worked. Nobody he ever knew had been bound to their mates. Maybe Lukina could explain it. She seemed to know a lot about the pack for someone so young.

  If this could all be solved without bloodshed, Nicholaus would be happy. The idea that he could be a part of the pack again was still foreign to him. He remembered Les’s words yesterday about how wolves were the gateway to salvation and paradise.

  Was he a part of that gateway? And if so, what part was he? Józsi was only the Alpha, and he hadn’t picked up the slack yet. He was still in the States doing God knows what with Selene. Selene was back in position as pack witch, which left him wondering where he fit in.

  Only time would tell, if he’d just stop running from everything.

  Nicholaus jerked awake. Someone stirred beside him. Looking to his side, he saw Katarina huddled tightly to him. Her fingers dug into his arm and would have caused a normal human to wince. She looked so heartrending, her red hair spilling over her naked body, blanketing her. At his other side, Krystyna wasn’t cuddled close to him like Katarina was. In fact, there was a bit of distance between them. Her arms were hidden beneath the blankets. What was going on? She usually snuggled as close as Katarina.

  A noise brought his attention toward the window.

  Careful not to wake either of them, Nicholaus slid off the bed. He found his pants, slid them on and shoved a shirt over his head. He set a hand on the sill, peered out the window into the dim light.

  People, no, wolves, he scented them, milled about the streets. It looked like Szentendré had been overrun by wolves. None of them looked like tourists or locals, or even humans.

  A closer sniff revealed Turkish spice, coffee, campfire smell.

  He felt a burning in his stomach. Something was about to go down that he didn’t want to be a part of. Glancing back at both his lovers, then back down street, he spotted several wolves were gathering around. Unable to make out what they were saying, he scanned the area for an exit. No such luck. The front exit was blocked off by numerous wolves, a few of whom had pistols. There was a back exit, but it would most likely be guarded too.

  What the hell were the Turkish wolves doing here anyway? Were they tracking him and his lovers? Why? How had they found him?

  He ran his hand down his face, looked back out the window and caught sight of the lone wolf strolling through the crowd. Taller than most people, the lone wolf stood proudly. Dressed in a formal green military coat and slacks, knee high boots finished off the outfit. Of course the sword at his side added to the regal look.

  Beady eyes, dark, neatly trimmed hair, moustache and dark skin gave away his Turkish heritage.

  The stranger approached several villagers, then walked until they stood in front of the inn. Unable to make out the language, he looked back at his lovers and thought it time to rouse them.

  Nicholaus felt that burn in the pit of his stomach grow heavier as he watched fingers being pointed toward the inn. Bile rose in his gut. This was the reason he stayed away from the pack. When he was gone, none of this shit ever happened. Swallowing hard, Nicholaus walked over to the edge of the bed. Gently, he shook Krystyna.

  She stirred and opened her eyes. “Nicholaus, what’s going on?”

  “Wake Katarina. We have to get the hell out of here.”

  Krystyna sat up and shoved the covers off. Quickly running into the bathroom, she returned a moment later dressed. “Katarina,” she whispered hoarsely, “wake up.” She shot a glance at Nicholaus. “I smell gunpowder.”

  “Yeah. Soldiers from the Turkish army are outside. It looks like they’re invading this town, but there has been no violence.” Yet.

  “That’s already a good start, right?”

  Katarina stirred and dressed quickly. She ran to the window and looked out at the street and back to Nicholaus, worry wearing on her tired face. “What are we going to do?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know just yet.”

  He tugged them toward the door and opened it slowly. Looking cautiously down the hall, he calculated the distance from the room to the stairs to the exit, knew it was going to be a tough run thanks to the compact size of the hallways in such an old building.

  The staircase would be a bottleneck.

  Of course if they could make it that far…then what?

  They were on the second story. The fall wouldn't kill them but it wasn't the healthiest thing for full
y grown wolves to do either. Especially since in Nicholaus’s condition, he hadn’t spent this much time in his natural state since he left the country.

  Maybe something would break their fall.

  If they could get outside, they could run between buildings but that cover would last what, ten, maybe fifteen minutes?

  “Fuck it.”

  Nicholaus pulled them toward the window. A quick peek out the window revealed no threat other than jumping from the second story. If he rolled when he landed, he could mitigate some of the pain from the fall. At the very least he could also catch both his lovers.

  He heard Krystyna sigh. Glaring at her, he dropped his human magic and pawed the ground. I’ll go first. Katarina, follow Krystyna.

  Neither responded. He wasn’t running away this time, he was guiding them to safety, so they could return to Albuquerque and be together. They needed to get the fuck out of Hungary and fast.

  Bracing himself, Nicholaus raced toward the window and lunged into the air. He burst through it, landed rolling on the ground and crashed into the wall of the next building.

  He saw stars for a moment before the clarity of someone yelling brought reality slamming back into focus.

  “I heard a window break! Surround all sides of the building!” A voice yelled in the distance.

  “Francba!” Shit! Looking up at the broken window, Nicholaus saw Katarina and Krystyna poking their heads out.

  Are you okay?

  Stay there. He licked his loins. Standing in human form, he stumbled and slumped against the wall. He forced himself to lift his head. His body ached now, but he could move. Closing his eyes, he focused his thoughts on morphing his appearance just slightly to erase some of the more Hungarian features.

  A few soldiers appeared in front of Nicholaus, pointed guns at him. “It’s just a damn drunk,” one declared. “Nothing to get excited about.”

  Nicholaus raised his head slowly, aware of blood trickling down his face. “What’s going on?”

  “None of your business, old man. Just make sure that when General Savas comes through later today, you are either cleaned up or not here.”

  “What the fuck is Savas doing here?”

  “Don’t—” the man lifted a boot to kick Nicholaus.

  Nicholaus caught the foot and pulled the man to the ground. He bared fangs. “Don’t what?”

  Two other soldiers rushed Nicholaus, knocking him down.

  He’d rolled a few feet away, pain lacing through him with each tumble against the cobblestone. Standing, he dropped his human magic again. He snarled, dipped his head low, set his ears back and glared.

  “We’ll play your game, Magyar.” The tallest soldier dropped his gun and his magic. The other two soldiers beside him did the same thing.

  Nicholaus made sure to keep one wall at his back. The three wolves surrounded him. This is about to get bad.

  You think so Magyar? It’s about time you learned your place.

  And a damn Turk is going to teach me that place? Hardly! It started in his head and worked down through his body, the violence fetish. This would end bloody but they were threatened his lovers. Nicholaus growled, lunging at the wolf in the center.

  As soon as he connected with his target, the other two jumped on him.

  Claws dug into his sides. He snarled, whipped his head around and snapped down on the leg in front of him, breaking it.

  Jaws released his neck followed by a loud yelp. Blood gushed from the new wound onto Nicholaus's muzzle. He wanted to lap at the blood, drink it in but found no time if he wanted to avoid the onslaught of another attack. Instead, he jumped away and shoved himself back into the pile, slamming hard enough into two of the wolves to knock them off balance.

  The trio rolled along the ground until they crashed into a building.

  Someone screamed in the background.

  That violence fetish reared its head and Nicholaus began to see things in a red hue. He groaned, braced himself for another attack.

  The third wolf wiped blood from his muzzle and glared at Nicholaus. Anger smoldered in bright yellow eyes. You may be quick, but we have the upper hand.

  Nicholaus shook his head. What are you talking about?

  The other wolf motioned toward the broken window.

  Nicholaus looked up and saw guards surrounding Krystyna and Katarina. “We have the murderer and her companion! Savas will be proud.”

  Shit was about to go from worse, to totally fucked. He looked at the window, took a step forward but stopped when he heard someone cough behind him.

  “I wouldn’t go to their aid, if I were you. General Savas will be here shortly to escort them back to our country.”

  Nicholaus took a step closer to the new soldier. Dressed in traditional Turkish military garb clothes, he stood with his sword at his thigh. The man’s dark eyes held something other than contempt. Anger? Fear? And what for?

  None of that mattered when he saw the armed guards manhandling his mates. Krystyna screamed, tried to force them off her but they overpowered her.

  “The one is a murderous woman who betrayed Savas. The other is just lucky, I suppose.” He shrugged and smirked. “It’s of no concern to me. I am only here to help reclaim what once belonged to the Turkish wolves.”

  Fury heated his skin. He clenched his fists, “What right do you think you have to any part of this land? It was never yours and it belongs to the inhabitants, not the fucking foreign menace.”

  The decorated general closed the distance between Nicholaus and himself and threw a fist across Nicholaus’ jaw.

  Nicholaus spun and stumbled, catching himself on the wall with both hands before he spat blood on the ground and faced the general.

  The general backed up and took an offensive stance.

  “That’s what right I have. Do not question my generals, or me, and you will live another day. I am with General Savas, leader of this band of wolves and we will make our presence known. We," he beat his chest, “will be reclaiming what is ours and taking that which is available to us. It is our destiny.”

  Rage simmered just beneath the surface of Nicholaus’ skin. Irritated at how confidence radiated off the man, despite the obvious smell of fear, Nicholaus spat more blood at Savas’ feet and glared at him. “You are barking up the wrong god damn tree with this one, pal.”

  “Oh?” The other wolf quirked a brow. “Just because you're that dying pack? Oh, wait you haven't been around in years I've been told. You have no idea how they've been reduced to nothing. If memory serves, I was reminded that you’re the foreigner now.”

  Nicholaus said nothing. He had no idea what the bastard was yakking about but he needed to play this close to his chest, wait for an opportunity. The wolf in him wanted blood, the man needed a calculated opening with more of a guarantee of survival than he presently perceived. “You're messing with Opeth Pack. Do you know…” He let the words trail off when humor flashed across the general’s face.

  “That tired pack? The last time that pack was worth a damn was…” The general scratched his head. “Not in our lifetime.”

  Nicholaus growled.

  “You know I’m right.”

  He had a point but Nicholaus wasn't about to admit that. Yes, his pack had been decimated over the years. Loss of Elders, Kiba's death and now an Alpha who couldn't get shit together? Yeah, a pack worth fighting for. Still, the pack he scorned deserved defending, if only for his mates. “Fuck you.”

  The general rushed Nicholaus again.

  Nicholaus was ready this time. Catching the man’s fist, he bent the man’s arm behind his back and slammed him into the wall. Twisting his own elbow, he cocked the man across the jaw and again in the neck. He snarled at the general and took another swing.

  Eyes wide as flashbulbs, the general coughed blood and spat out a tooth.

  Pulling a large knife from the general's sheath, Nicholaus pinned Savas against the wall with enough pressure that he'd drawn blood. The coppery smell beckoned to Nicholaus,
urging him to end things and move onto the next target. Nicholaus blinked, regained control over the wolf's mind. “Tell your men to let them go.”

  The general looked up and laughed. “I do not fear you, Magyar.”

  His voice dropped. “And I do not fear killing you.”

  The last sound Nicholaus heard was the strangled laugh before the spine snapped and the other soldiers beat feet out of the alleyway.

  Fucking cowards.

  Chapter 8

  It took a second but he caught his breath and looked at the window he'd jumped from. Yup, still broken and what do you know?

  No sign of his lovers.

  The smart play would have been to run and get the hell out of dodge but he couldn't do that without his mates. Nicholaus ran through the street to the front of the inn, aware of every wound he'd had from the fight earlier. Peering around the corner, he spotted only a few guards who seemed nonchalant to their surroundings.

  No one else around meant Nicholaus could attack in plain sight and the two guards wouldn't see it coming.

  He stepped out, whistled and caught the attention of the two morons before they’d both been knocked unconscious. They fell against the wall and slid to the ground with a loud thump.

  A third soldier stepped outside, spotted his fallen comrades. “You, stop right there!” Raising his gun at Nicholaus, he barely had the barrel pointed before Nicholaus reached for the man’s arm, shoved it out of the way and grabbed his wrist. Pulling the man toward him, Nicholaus caught him in the jaw with his elbow.

  The man’s head spun.

  Nicholaus reversed his elbow, catching the man on the other side of his jaw, before punching him straight in the neck. The gun in his hand fell to the floor, clacking against the stone.

  The man flinched and dropped to the ground.

  Nicholaus picked up the gun and fired off two shots into each guard. Throwing the gun aside, he ducked into the alley and waited. A beat passed.

  Nothing.

  The march of soldiers’ boots against the cobblestone street a few streets off made him turn his head. Dashing to the front of the inn, he peeked around the corner and waited. A moment later, several soldiers came down the street, marching in line. Led by a tall, bearded man with his sword drawn, they marched in unison. The commander stopped and his troops stopped behind him. Another general ran up to the leader and whispered something in his ear. The commander turned and faced Nicholaus’ direction.